


Forced Reset

by PepperPrints



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:43:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperPrints/pseuds/PepperPrints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how the timeline ends. It's the one moment Harrison spends every second trying to prevent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forced Reset

**Author's Note:**

> This is hugely headcanon reliant and canon divergent. However you want to label it. I wanted to write and publish this before canon totally made this concept impossible.
> 
> Warnings for: abusive behavior, noncon in a brief instance (which extends only to kissing), generally messed up things.
> 
> Countless thanks to restlesslikeme here on AO3 for being my very thorough editor.

 

In the prime timeline, he watches Barry Allen die.

 

He vibrates like he's shaking in and out of reality. Harrison grips his arms, trying to keep him steady, but it does no good. There's too much for him to hope to contain. Barry is straining and faltering, twitching like an electric shock – like the lightning he once commanded is now being used against him.

 

“Barry,” he says, low and like a hiss, as if he can command him into stabilizing, “Barry--”

 

Barry coughs up blood, redder than his costume, and he shudders wildly. “I'm not – healing,” he manages to choke out, his hands pulling and tightening into Harrison's shirt. “I'm not--”

 

“Hush.” Another command, more frigid than he intends, as his hand traces up to Barry's neck. His pulse is quick; too fast to even be counted.

 

“Hold on,” Harrison says, more plea than command, and Barry's touch stills his voice. His hand reaches to drift across his cheek, bloody fingers leaving four red streaks against Harrison's skin.

 

“I'm sorry,” Barry sighs. “I wasn't fast enough...”

 

This is how the timeline ends.

 

It's the one moment Harrison spends every second trying to prevent.

 

–

  


In the prime timeline, back when it all began, his injury is real.

 

Harrison is crushed in the particle accelerator explosion, pieced back together by Caitlin's careful hands, and told in a very quiet voice that he will never walk again.

 

He loses his legs – he loses everything – except for Cisco and Caitlin, and one very memorable headline.

 

A boy who was struck by lightning, barely clinging to life in a hospital bed.

 

The doctors claim there is something very, very odd about him.

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, he meets Barry Allen on two feet.

 

He looks down on Barry, rather than up at him – although that's only in the physical. He will always be looking up at Barry Allen, at this boy who radiates his youth and joy the same way he emits sparks of lightning when he runs. He will save him, he will rewrite what was done and bring Barry back to him.

 

But it's wrong. Barry wavers slightly when he shakes his hand, and there's something faint in the crooked corner of his mouth. He doesn't see Harrison Wells the same way. He doesn't see the damaged man who lost everything in pursuit of his dream; he sees an egotist who was punished for his hubris, who clings stubbornly to his disaster while it rips others apart. There is no pull of sympathy to make Barry think twice about his contemptuous exterior.

 

He watches lips he once kissed turn downward at the sound of his name.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry sits with him in late hours of the night.

 

Barry feels sheepish in the wake of Iris West's escalating union with Eddie Thawne. He uses work as the excuse, taking Harrison up on his encouragement to test his limits, to push himself, to get faster and faster.

 

“A new record,” Harrison reports as he reclines back in his chair, and the blur on the treadmill slowly takes the shape of a man once more.

 

Edged with sweat but barely breathless, Barry returns to his side and greets him with a nervous sort of smile. His mouth has a restless line to it, moving in its corners, betraying the words that the boy is keeping behind his teeth.

 

“Something on your mind?” he asks at last, and Barry's shoulders sink. He acts like he's been caught doing something shameful.

 

“I just,” he begins carefully. “We've met all these people who were changed by the particle accelerator – given these amazing powers – but you, you're the one who made it... and you...”

 

Harrison raises his hand to still Barry's tongue. A part of him does not want to hear it spoken.“Barry,” he says firmly. “Considering how many lives were lost that night, I don't believe my fortune is too tragic.”

 

Barry's mouth quirks slightly, and he bows his head. “I can run faster than anyone,” he says quietly, “but you'll never even walk again.”

 

It cuts colder than Harrison anticipates. His throat works in a tight swallow, and he forces his lips to smile.

 

“Never say never,” he replies, his voice too quiet to be optimistic. “There's secrets in your blood.”

 

Barry grins, faint and somehow guilty, and he nods his head.

 

“Better keep running then.”

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, Barry speaks to Simon Stagg.

 

He's upfront about it. Standing in S.T.A.R. Labs he faces the people who were his team and admits a betrayal. It's Harrison's fault; he has changed too much. S.T.A.R. Labs is not like home to Barry now; he feels no loyalty, since all Harrison has given him are demands.

 

“He says I can help people,” Barry insists and Harrison feels anger coil hot under his skin. Barry tries to leave, and Harrison follows him on long, steady legs.

 

“Simon Stagg is not interested in helping people!” Harrison tells him coldly. “He is interested in personal gain and money, Barry, and that is all he sees you as: something for him to make a dollar on.”

 

“And what about you,” Barry counters, “What do you see me as?”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry asks him about Tess Morgan.

 

It's said over drinks that Barry feels no affect of, and Harrison peers at him over his glass. Barry knows – of course he does; the boy had admitted to reading his biography more than once. A narrative point as dramatic and tragic as the car accident that claimed Tess Morgan would never be overlooked by any aspiring author.

 

“You don't have to say anything,” Barry quickly adds. “I'm used to – you know, Joe still wears his wedding ring. But you...”

 

“I'd rather not,” says Harrison quietly, and Barry visibly weakens.

 

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I just thought...”

 

“It's all right, Barry.”

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, he considers going further.

 

Going back twelve more years. Going back to Tess Morgan. Another person who died right beside him.

 

He does not fool himself with excuses to why he does not.

 

He hopes she would forgive him for it.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, it takes two more drinks to change his mind.

 

He tells Barry about Tess Morgan, about her genius and her charm. She put up with so much from him; his sour demeanor and his penchant to be arrogant. It's only right to grant him this much.

 

“As you may have noticed, I'm not a man with many friends,” he tells Barry over the rim of his glass. “Even less after the accident marked me as a pariah. It's not very easy to get close to me; few people have the patience.”

 

“But Tess did,” Barry says and Harrison stares into his glass. He tips it, watching the amber liquid move. There's a drag of silence, when Harrison does not reply, and Barry fills it himself. “I like to think we're close.”

 

Harrison looks up, and he finds that to be true – physically, anyway; Barry is very close to him.

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, he pushes Barry to his limits.

 

He does not offer any explanation. The memory of Barry shaking in his arms is too vivid, as are the words that were on his lips: I wasn't fast enough.

 

Barry needed to be more serious. He needed to be faster; his life depended on it.

 

Everything does.

 

But Barry doesn't see it that way. He's exhausted and he's frustrated, because Harrison does not allow him time to breathe. They don't have the luxury of time.

 

And he's the only one who understands that.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry kisses him for the first time.

 

Harrison has tried to replicate this exact moment countless times. He has repeated the past so many times, over and over, but it's always different. Sometimes, Barry will kiss him, or sometimes the very idea seems beyond him – but it is never the same. The first time was different; the very first time was the most memorable.

 

Perhaps the reason he cannot recreate it, is because it is no longer his first. It never will be his first again.

 

Barry moans against his mouth, sweet and eager, and his fingers bury into Harrison's short hair and pull. He pushes, as if he cannot get close enough, and when he breaks the kiss to gasp for breath--

 

“Please, oh please.”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry looks at him in concern.

 

“Can you feel that?” he blurts, nervous and impulsive.

 

As quickly as Barry places hands on him, they jerk away; withdrawing as if scalded. As quickly as Barry can move his body, his brain seems to fall behind, and a wince comes across his face. He seems to realize too late how his reaction could be misread; taken as discomfort rather than concern. As convenient as it is to have Barry's powers in bed – the stripping done and all the supplies just a blink away – it doesn't do much to help the mood when Barry interrupts with unpleasant reminders of Harrison's condition.

 

“Sorry,” he says guiltily, more gingerly pressing his palms against Harrison's thighs. “I just...” He trails off, looking at Harrison under long lashes, and Harrison takes over.

 

“Don't apologize, Barry,” Harrison replies, long fingers circling Barry's slender wrist. It's not taken with offense; it's a fair precaution and courtesy.

 

“I just,” Barry starts again. He shuffles closer, all lean muscle and pale skin. His head is bowed, bashful; boyish and shy, as he finishes. “I just want to be sure you feel good.”

 

For the umpteenth time, Harrison finds himself quietly awed by Barry Allen. It's so utterly sincere; open and full of honest affection. There's a fierce possessiveness that comes with that thought, sudden and strong. He places his hands on Barry's hips and urges him closer, until he's sitting in Harrison's lap. Slowly, his fingers curl into the hair at his nape, guide him into a kiss, and Barry hums against his mouth.

 

He presses his tongue to the crease of Barry's mouth. He pushes, shallowly dipping inside his mouth, and Barry gasps out, letting his mouth hang open in eager invitation. Even so, Harrison draws it out: he deepens the kiss in small steps, shallow and slight. Just enough to taste him; explore him. Carefully tracing the inside of his mouth, inch by inch. Harrison licks the roof of his mouth, traces his tongue along his teeth, and feels the vibration when Barry whines.

 

“Can you feel that?” Harrison counters lowly, and Barry's response is a moan.

 

Harrison begins teaching Barry to enjoy going slow as much as he enjoys going fast.

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, he is certain Barry hates him.

 

They argue. About Stagg. About Barry. About the Flash. Harrison has seen him die and he will not repeat it – but he cannot say those words. He cannot make Barry understand a future that he doesn't see. Harrison alone carries this and he has to protect it – protect Barry.

 

“What's wrong with you?” Barry demands desperately. Cisco and Caitlin have been sent away, and now they yell at one another. “What are you trying to do? Why do you think you can chain me up like I'm some kind of prisoner?”

 

Because you are more precious than gold and Simon Stagg will turn you to rust.

 

“This is more important than you realize,” Harrison says instead. Barry doesn't know; he has no way of knowing or understanding any of this. He doesn't know what Harrison has done; what he has lost--

 

“You're right; I don't realize!” Barry shouts, his arms raising in sheer disbelief. “Tell me what I'm missing, doctor, because I don't have a clue! I'm tired of secrets! I'm tired of you being reckless with people's lives!”

 

Harrison is tired too. Tired of biting his tongue when Barry speaks to him. Tired of holding in a secret too dangerous to let loose.

 

Tired of loving someone who does not remember him.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, they test a medical formula based on Barry's blood.

 

Caitlin is cautious. The animal tests show promising results but she is wary to try it on human flesh and blood. Harrison offers himself as a subject and control of his own body is not something they can argue. He wants to try, and he has that right.

 

Caitlin carefully picks a dosage, and they wait. It's as if they expect him to spring to life in a matter of seconds, but there's nothing. As minutes pass without incident, they return to their tasks. It's almost as if everyone has forgotten to watch him at all, until Harrison finds the need to wipe his glasses.

 

His shirt seems to leave the lenses dirtier than they started, because images still blur. Harrison squints, tries again, but the result is the same.

 

It takes several long seconds before the realization clicks, and then all three of them surround him.

 

“So you can see?” Cisco asks, delighted and loud. “This is so cool; Barry fixed your eyes!”

 

“Not quite,” Caitlin cuts in, adjusting the device she's set him in front of. “Better or worse?”

 

“Worse – and no, Cisco, my eyes aren't fixed.”

 

“But your glasses aren't working?” Barry affirms. “Something must have changed.”

 

“Better or worse?”

 

“Better,” Harrison replies curtly, and he pulls back to look at Barry. With every blink, his outline seems more solid. “Much better.”

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, he loses his temper.

 

It's the depth of his own despair. Watching the man who died in his arms reject his warning. Knowing the man who saved his life does not remember him. Feeling the man who kissed him regard him with scorn.

 

It isn't right. This isn't how it is supposed to be. He has done something wrong.

 

Barry loves him. Barry dies for him. Barry--

 

Barry is against the wall, shoved there by Harrison's violent assertion in a split second, and his eyes go wide.

 

“How did you do that?”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, he takes his first step in months.

 

It's a tense moment. He wavers, just slightly, but Barry stands in front of him, arms ready to embrace him if he falls. There's an almost reverent hush about the room as Harrison takes one shaky step, and then a second.

 

The moment is disturbed by Cisco's barely stifled chuckle. Caitlin turns wide, disbelieving eyes towards him and Cisco explains himself in a quiet voice. “You know Bambi,” he says, “when he walks for the first time?”

 

“Unbelievable,” Caitlin hisses in an undertone and Harrison cannot even be bothered. His legs give out after five short steps and then Barry catches him against his chest.

 

“Oh! Easy,” Barry gasps, wrapping arms around his middle. “It's been a long time.”

 

Harrison sinks into Barry. His legs ache and throb with the strain of even those few, small steps. His body protests and wants to sit, but this feels sweeter: even if every inch of him aches, standing here like this is better.

 

“I'll get the chair,” Barry murmurs against his hair, and Harrison tightens his hands against Barry's back.

 

“Not yet,” he entreats. “Just a little longer.”

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, Barry looks at him in horror.

 

“You – how are you this fast?” Barry demands. He's untrained now; it's too early on. He cannot compete with Harrison's intensity. “What – what did you do?”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, he ignores Caitlin's orders.

 

Late at night, leaving Barry in bed, he returns to the lab and takes another dose. He repeats that the next night. Then the next. It isn't hurting him; it's only helping. The only thing holding him back is how he's taking too little---

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, he starts speaking and he cannot stop.

 

“I did what I had to do – to protect you, to keep you safe, to take back what was taken from me – from us. Our future. Our future together,” he hisses, low and steady, and Barry's wide eyes reflect nothing but confusion. “But it's two of us now, Barry; two of us can win. You don't have to go alone.”

 

“What – what are you talking about?” Barry gasps. Harrison's hands frame his face, almost cradling, and Barry tries to squirm, but Harrison will not allow it. “You're not making any sense!”

 

“Everything will be okay,” Harrison promises, “I'm here.”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry turns on music in the living room.

 

Harrison arches a brow, watching Barry from his chair as Caitlin has ordered him to stay in it until he's stronger. Barry extends his hands towards him, and his face is lit up like a star.

 

“Come on,” he says, his fingers gesturing forward. “Come here. I bet you've missed this.”

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, Barry struggles in his arms.

 

“Get away from me!” Barry shouts. He resists but he is juvenile compared to him. His powers have not been tested or honed. “Let go of me!”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry takes him dancing.

 

Harrison can barely endure even the first half of the song. His knees begin to buckle and his thighs shake from strain. Barry holds him when he falters, supporting him the rest of the way. They move in shuffling steps across the carpet, and Barry half-sings along against his ear, each verse like a kiss over his skin.

 

–

 

The first time he alters the past, he forces their mouths together.

 

He kisses full of desperation, deep and biting. He pushes forward like Barry might vanish right in front of him if he lets go – the same way he bled out right in Harrison's arms, in the middle of a crowded street.

 

Barry struggles and pounds his fists against his chest. He tries to shove him off. He doesn't want him. He doesn't know him.

 

He doesn't love him.

 

“Can you feel that?” Harrison hisses between his bites, speaking on some wild impulse and rush of choked emotion that he cannot give any single name. “Can you feel that?”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry kisses him.

 

He kisses him in the middle of a slow dance in sock feet on a plush carpet. Barry cups his face and lingers there, humming against his mouth and leaving Harrison short of breath.

 

“I love you,” Barry tells him.

 

–

 

The first time he altered the past--

 

“I love you,” Harrison tells him, like he's pleading, like it will unlock some part of Barry and make it as things were. “Barry--”

 

But all Barry does is panic and resist. When Harrison's grip wavers, he breaks from him, and he runs – and Harrison does not chase him.

 

Not in that way.

 

He chases a memory, by starting over again. And again.

 

Until he gets it right.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, he and Barry take a long walk around S.T.A.R. Labs.

 

They're testing his endurance for it, now that he can stand without shaking. Slowly, he's improving, and this is the longest stretch he's had yet. It's something he never thought he'd have the luxury of again: the ordinary delight of a leisurely walk. The feeling is without compare. Barry accompanies him, and he looks more thrilled than Harrison. He won't stop smiling, huge and bright-eyed. Harrison casts a glance at him, with one arched brow.

 

“What?” he asks at last and Barry chuckles.

 

“Just not used to looking up,” he teases, and the corner of Harrison's mouth pulls in reply. “So, when do we report the good news?”

 

That's the question. Harrison's brows knit together and he admits an unfortunate truth. “I believe it's in our best interests to wait, before we start declaring to the world that we have a miracle cure,” he explains simply. “There's still potential for... side-effects. Setbacks.”

 

Barry's glow of enthusiasm seems to fade as Harrison continues. “I've already played the false prophet role once; I'd rather not do so again.” Harrison's grin is humorless now. “Fool me once, they'll say.”

 

Barry tucks his hands into his pockets. He has a restless sort of shuffle to him, and Harrison sighs as he assumes its origin. “If it's killing you to go this slowly, I won't be offended if you run,” he tells him. Barry isn't addicted to his power, not by any means, but Harrison can understand how reigning himself in to such extents must be frustrating.

 

“No,” Barry says immediately. “No, I don't mind it. It's never any rush when I'm with you.”

 

The words are enough to stop Harrison mid-step – which would be significant in itself, but what comes next overshadows it.

 

–

 

On the second attempt, he goes back to the chair.

 

He doesn't want it. It feels like damning himself; as if he'll lose his legs again the moment he sits in it again – but he's realized its necessity.

 

It's not that Barry loves or pities him for his disability; that is untrue. But it's essential for Barry to feel kindred with him, for him to realize that Harrison has lost something – otherwise, he distrusts him.

 

It will not be an easy farce to keep, especially not with Caitlin. He makes an excuse; that he prefers another doctor, for his own privacy. She accepts this, and perhaps it's better for her state of mind as well, to not nurse his wounds when she cannot tend to her own.

 

Ronnie. That too can change.

 

He'll promise her that.

 

Barry looks at him with familiar eyes, with softness in his expression, and Harrison feels something like hope.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, he begins to shake as Barry holds him upright.

 

It's in his arms: shuddering with vibrations he cannot contain – the same kind Barry experienced, when he woke from his coma.

 

The four of them sit in tense silence, neither fully looking at one another, and Cisco finally speaks for them all.

 

“I mean, we could have guessed,” he offers. “You didn't just get Barry's healing; you got... everything – but that's not so bad, you know?”

 

“Yes and no,” Harrison says quietly. “We can't market the cure like this. Not unless you expect every patient who gets treatment to have the outstanding character required to be responsible with the burden of lightning speed.”

 

Barry looks at him, and there's a different expression on his face – one Harrison is not familiar with.

 

Is it doubt?

 

Does Barry think he has the character required for this?

 

–

 

On the second attempt, history seems to repeat itself.

 

The particle accelerator explosion. The lightning strike. The coma and the costume. It comes together, and Barry is the same man he remembers.

 

Barry returns to what Harrison is familiar with: visiting him late at night and sneaking shy glances in his direction. It's tempting to escalate when he knows exactly what is on Barry's mind – but at the same time, to rush it is to risk everything. The adjustments he makes are carefully measured, just enough to guide Barry in the right direction, rather than shove it upon him. This cannot be forced; he knows this now.

 

He carefully keeps to his script, and it all goes just as it had. Barry trains, while Harrison encourages him; the two eventually talk over drinks, and the evening ends with Barry in his lap.

 

The farce of his disability has never been so difficult to keep.

 

“Oh God,” Barry barely breathes. His body flutters against him, arms looped around Harrison's shoulders, and his chest heaves in unsteady breaths. “Yeah--”

 

Barry trembles so much that Harrison's first instinct is to soothe. His fingers stroke through Barry's hair and he hushes him against his ear. Now he breaks his rule: he deviates from the history he remembers – but he cannot help himself. He thinks too much about how the last time he held Barry in his arms, he was shaking just this much, but for reasons far, far darker.

 

Barry moans, his arms tightening around him, and Harrison places a damp kiss beneath his ear. He's gentle with him, rubbing his hands up and down Barry's arched back. He reminds himself that Barry is here now, warm and real and very much alive. Harrison speaks his name, full of fondness and appreciation, and strokes warm muscle under his palms. Barry sighs and shivers and squeezes down on him. Pliant; perfect.

 

“Stay,” Harrison urges, breathless and unthinking, as long wiry fingers frame Barry's face. It's more of a plea than he means for it to be; too desperate. “Stay with me--”

 

It won't make sense – not entirely. The full gravity of what he asks is beyond Barry's scope. Nonetheless, flushed and dizzy from want, Barry assents without even questioning.

 

“Yeah – m'here,” he replies, his words murmuring together as their lips touch. “I'm right here.”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, he and Barry go home in silence.

 

This is new territory. So far, apart from their disagreements concerning Barry's safety, most of their union has been remarkably calm. This is different from Harrison critiquing Barry's recklessness or Barry insisting that Harrison's view is too narrow. Barry is quiet and his brows are tight; he hasn't spoken, though his face betrays a million words.

 

“Barry,” begins Harrison cautiously, and that one word seems to open the dam.

 

“I'm not jealous,” Barry immediately clarifies. “It's not that. I never thought it was fair – the accident doing what it did to me, next to what it did to you. But...” Barry's chest heaves in a sigh. “I don't know.”

 

Silence hangs and Barry does not seem keen to fill it. It's not difficult to decipher the unspoken sentiment. Harrison reaches for Barry's arm, and Barry does not resist it. He seems sheepish about meeting his gaze, but Harrison does not waver.

 

“You are the Flash,” Harrison tells him firmly. “What makes you the Flash is not your speed or your power. There's a reason that we've faced countless metahumans, but there's only one of you defending the city – because no one else can do what you do, Barry.”

 

Harrison loosens his grip, continuing more quietly. “If it had been reversed,” he says. “If you had been in that chair, and I woke up like you did...” Harrison shakes his head. “I wouldn't be the Flash. I'm nothing like you at all.”

 

“Don't say that.”

 

“It's true,” Harrison insists. “I kept telling you what you wanted was impossible, and you proved me wrong.”

 

Barry smiles, just on one side of his mouth, and there's something sad about it as he peers up at him.

 

“That's not totally what I mean,” he confesses, and Harrison's expression falters. “You lecture me all the time, you know, about how important I am and how dangerous things are – and now... Cisco wants to make you a suit; he talks about how we can cover twice the ground. Then I think about you doing that and I...

 

“I don't want to lose somebody else.”

 

–

 

On the second attempt, Harrison loses him again; same as the first.

 

On the third, Farooq Gibran drains him to the point of death.

 

The fourth, Simon Stagg dissects him like a science project.

 

The fifth, he chokes on the gas Kyle Nimbus puts in his lungs.

 

Again and again. No matter what Harrison does, at some point Barry is not strong enough. Something holds him back. Something needs to change – Barry needs to be stronger; his motivation needs to burn deeper.

 

He knows how to do it.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry tells him how his mother died.

 

A burglar thought a modest but well respected doctor would be an easy home to rob. Good money, but not so rich that their security would be overwhelming. The noise woke Nora Allen and she was killed to ensure a clean getaway.

 

“They never found him,” he admits, laying with his head on Harrison's leg. Harrison can feel that weight now, warm and comfortable, and it's more satisfying than he can give words to. “Ever. I guess it's... it's part of why I decided to do what I do.”

 

The statement seems purposefully vague; leading – so, Harrison latches on to it. “Working with the police?” Harrison tries, and Barry looks up at him with an almost shy smile.

 

“And the Flash,” he adds. “All the stuff you say, about how important I am? It's not all me; it's because of my mom.”

 

–

 

Failed attempt after failed attempt, Harrison begins to lose perspective.

 

Harrison begins to misinterpret Barry's words that night.

 

Love is Barry's motivation. Love for his mother makes his call to justice strong. But if something even darker happened. Something even deeper, to make that connection even stronger--

 

Harrison's motivation is the same.

 

He loves Barry enough to kill for him.

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, he and Barry go running.

 

They return to the airfield and as Harrison stretches, Barry is already primed to go. “Don't expect much out of me,” Harrison cautions. Considering Barry's disposition, he expects the other man will get... competitive. “You were in a coma for six months – the changes in your body may have required that time to mature into the stage you're at now.”

 

“Sounds like an excuse to me,” Barry teases playfully and Harrison sighs. This seems to be payback for all the times Harrison tested Barry's limitations.

 

“I won't be able to reach you,” Harrison repeats. “I don't have your experience.”

 

Barry looks undeterred. “You just need the right motivation.” He thinks on that for a second. “You can kiss me if you catch me.”

 

Harrison's response is a dull stare, and Barry sheepishly hurries to cover his tracks. “Well, I mean – you can kiss me whenever you want; you're my boyfriend. If we're... if we're using the word boyfriend. We didn't really talk about that. Not like you'd call it anything else. Unless you want to call it something else.”

 

“Barry,” Harrison cuts in. “You're babbling.” He lets Barry regain composure before he adds. “And, since I am more serious about you than I am about anything else in my life... we can use whatever word you like.”

 

Barry's lips spread into a smile. “C'mon doctor--” In a blink, Barry has his costume on, and his voice vibrates when he speaks. “Catch me.”

 

–

 

He's lost count of how often he's repeated time when he stands before Barry in the yellow suit.

 

Barry yells at him, desperate and confused. He demands answers. He wants an explanation for his mother's death.

 

It's to protect you, Harrison thinks. Everything I've done has been for you. I rewrote history a hundred times for you--

 

I love you.

 

But he says something else instead.

 

“You're going to have to catch me.”

 

–

 

In the prime timeline, Barry laughs as he grabs hold of Harrison's arms, stopping him mid-stride.

 

In the end, he is right about the range of his own abilities; he is nowhere near Barry's speed and he cannot catch him. Barry runs circles around him, urging him on with taunts and playfulness, and he enjoys himself far too much.

 

The tactic does work; it's a powerful motivator, but Barry still slips away from his reaching fingers.

 

And Barry always will, although Harrison doesn't know it at this point. In one sense of the word, he will always be reaching for Barry Allen, and he has not succeeded yet.

 

One day, Barry will realize. Barry will discover the depth of the things that Harrison Wells has done in his name.

 

Barry will figure it out. He always does, given enough time.

 

“Caught you,” Barry says triumphantly, as if it could have been any real struggle, and he presses their lips together.


End file.
